


And baby makes three

by Roterwolkenvogel



Series: Uno Dos Tres [2]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ensemble Cast, Faraday accidentially acquires a kid, Kid Fic, M/M, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, and the author is very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 06:31:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15943718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roterwolkenvogel/pseuds/Roterwolkenvogel
Summary: “Mr. Faraday?”“The very same. Who’s speaking?” – “My name is Mrs. Martinez from Child Protection Services, New Mexico. I am currently assigned to the case of Miss Fionola Faraday, whose birth certificate claims you are her father. As her mother has been recently deceased, protocol dictates that the surviving parent is called in first before the child is placed in foster care, even if there has been no previous contact.”“What?”, Faraday asks befuddled.





	And baby makes three

**Author's Note:**

> I fully blame [Hazel_Athena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel_Athena/profile) for making me fall in love with Faraday as a single Dad and her portray of his daughter Ava in Trickster's Fancy.
> 
> And then it ran away with me. I might actually add to this if my muse continues to be so persistent (she usually shuts up after executing one fic bunny but this fandom proves to be addicting).

Joshua Faraday gets woken up at the perfectly reasonable hour of 10:00 am by his phone blaring in his ear.

 

Or at least it would be a perfectly reasonable hour of he were a respectable member of society, prone to keeping hours considered as ‘normal’.

Which he decidedly isn’t.

 

The ringtone stops and he buries himself under the blankets again. A mere minute later, it starts anew.

 

Hissing a curse, he crawls out of his makeshift case and grabs blindly for his phone on the nightstand, fumbling, until he got a proper grip and can see the ‘unknown caller’ flash up on the screen. Then the noise cuts off abruptly.

 

Blearily he stares at the offending appliance in his hands, which is a godsend when the ringing starts up again, the phone vibrating so badly the he nearly drops it.

 

“Yes?!”, he barks as he picks up and from the other side comes a brief, stunned silence before a slightly accented voice asks: “Mr. Faraday?”

“The very same. Who’s speaking?” – “My name is Mrs. Martinez from Child Protection Services, New Mexico. I am currently assigned to the case of Miss Fionola Faraday, whose birth certificate claims you are her father. As her mother has been recently deceased, protocol dictates that the surviving parent is called in first before the child is placed in foster care, even if there has been no previous contact.”

 

“What?”, Faraday asks befuddled.

 

|||

 

Showing up pickled in Whiskey at a government institution is never a good idea, but Faraday never had one in his life. So the morning sees him leaning propped up against the reception desk of the J. Edgar Hoover Building, trying to charm the sour-faced receptionist into summoning Sam down from where he resides loftily over Washington.

 

“Mr. Chisolm is in a meeting right now, Mister”, the woman taps one of her long, sharp nails against her desk and gives him a glare: “I suggest that you take a seat and wait before I get security to escort you out.”

 

Not wanting to risk it, he slowly traipses over the low leather chairs strewn in the lobby, when the savior comes through the entrance.

 

Or rather, Junior Agent Teddy Q balancing a tray of Starbucks’ cups, one that suspiciously looks like the special orders of Sam and Emma.

 

“Teddy! Hey, Teddy!”, he yells and makes a sharp U-turn towards the younger man, who stops dead in his tracks, eyes bulging in surprise. But he’s kind enough to wave the receptionist down as she makes a move to hold to her words.

 

“I need to talk to Sam, right now. It’s urgent”, he must look desperate enough that Teddy lets him follow, waving though floors and escalators until they reach yet another unassuming door.

 

Teddy throws him a weary glance before he knocks and opens and Faraday barges past him, nearly tripping over the fancy rug before he stops in front of a very unimpressed looking Sam Chisolm, Federal Agent.

 

Before the man can say anything, Faraday blurts out: “I’m calling the favor you said you owed me after Rose Creek.”

 

That gets him a raised eyebrow: “Why now?”

 

“Because I need the number Ale’s burner phone. I have a flight to New Mexico in twelve hours and I can’t do that alone.”

 

“Joshua Faraday”, Emma Cullen pipes up behind Sam: “What have you done?!”

 

|||

 

“A child”, Sam sounds unimpressed and Faraday can’t fault him. “And why do you need Vasquez for?”

 

“Sam. Sammy”, Faraday, who has flopped down on a chair during his tale, waves a hand loftily: “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve been in a relationship with your agent since the hellhole that was Rose Creek. And he kind of deserves a fair warning when I bring a child into the mix.”

 

“You intend to take her?”, Emma just sounds confused. “Forgive me for being blunt Joshua, but you and your… lifestyle don’t lend themselves well to rearing a child. Wouldn’t it be better to give her up to get adopted by a family who can give her everything she needs?”

 

Faraday knows he shouldn’t be unkind, it’s not like she raises any argument he hasn’t had with himself ever since the phone call, but some hurts run deep so he glares at her and spits: “No child of mine is going into the system, Miss Cullen” and he relishes as she flinches back at his ire.

 

“Now, son”, Sam places a hand on his shoulder: “I understand that you’re under a lot of stress right now but that’s no reason to let them out on Emma. You can’t rightly expect Vasquez to take care of you and a child-“

 

“Which is why I need his number Sam! To ask!”

 

|||

 

In the end, he doesn’t get the number. What he gets is Sam’s promise to tell Vasquez in his next update and Goodnight Robicheaux to accompany him to New Mexico.

 

A consolation price, if anything.

 

“So tell me again”, Goodnight starts as they sit in the plane: “How did you come by a child?”

 

“Stuck my dick somewhere I shouldn’t have”, Faraday snarks back and the stewardess walking past their aisle gives him a scandalized look.

He throws her a wink and a smile but his heart isn’t in it, so he abandons it in favor of giving Goodnight a long look.

 

“See, I was in Vegas, gambling my way to the top when I met her Mom. Gorgeous woman, strong willed, loved my card tricks. I invited her for drinks and it turned out she was one of the ladies of the night. I paid for her services like a gentleman and somehow we fell together despite everything and I found myself with a real lovely woman on my side whenever I wished for it. I’ve always been a ladies’ man, Goody!”

 

“And how, pray tell, does a Mexican Federal Agent work with that?”

 

“I’ve always had a taste for the dark-haired beauties”, Faraday says and throws him an exaggerated wink. He gets a balled napkin thrown at his head for his trouble.

 

“And you never knew she was pregnant?, Goodnight presses on and Faraday shakes his head: “Fell in with the wrong crowd and had to get the hell outta Dodge, no time for goodbyes. Never saw her again.”

 

Goodnight hums thoughtfully: “And what’s the name of your daughter again?”

 

“Fionola”, he says, already long suffering and waits out the inevitable snicker: “I looked it up, you know. It’s a proper Irish name. Seems like her Ma remembered what I told her about my heritage.”

 

That shuts Goodnight up.

 

|||

 

Mrs. Martinez is a fair bit younger than Faraday expected and she eyes him with the bone deep weariness of any social worker everywhere. Goodnight gets into her good grace with his Southern charm on full volume and Faraday rides the waves until they reach Martinez’ office, at which point the woman gestures him forward.

 

“Only Mr. Faraday for now, Mr. Robicheaux”, she says apologetically: “Please take a seat, I’ll be with you once I introduced Mr. Faraday to Miss Fionola, to give them a bit of private time.”

 

Faraday gets shuffled through the door and he can vaguely hear Mrs. Martinez introduce them to the lone occupant of the room but he’s too focused at the girl to pay any real attention.

 

Of course he had asked for her age, has done the math and came up with the same numbers but hearing that he has a thirteen year old daughter is something else entirely than seeing her in the flesh.

 

Her complexion is darker than his, like her mother’s, and she has his curly hair, albeit black and glossy, hanging carefully styled over her shoulders. She has ripped jeans and a hoodie, her hands buried in the deep front pocket.

 

“Fionola”, he starts and gets an eye roll. “Nola”, she says firmly.: “No one calls me Fionola. It’s a stupid name anyway.

 

Rightfully not knowing what to say, he makes his way to the chair opposite her and sits down, carefully.

 

They stare at each other for a while until Nola breaks the silence: “Shouldn’t you be apologizing for leaving Mom and me high and dry?”

 

“Read too many romance novels, did you, kid?”, he bites out, regretting his words as soon as they leave his mouth. She startles him by laughing, a surprisingly carefree laugh.

 

“Mom always said you’d be bad at this. You know, she always told me that it was better that you weren’t here and made things more complicated.”

 

Faraday feels offended at this. Not denying the truth, it still feels like a slap to the face: “And you still agreed that they called me?”

 

“Didn’t get asked. It’s standard protocol, Mrs. Martinez says”, Nola sounds carefully indifferent as she frees her hands from her hoodie’s pocket.

“But you’re here now, which is more than I expected. So I guess…”, she trails off.

 

Swallowing his ire at what is clearly a grieving child lashing out, he says: “Do you want to know anything about me?”

 

“Where do you live?”, the question comes so fast that he assumes she must have brooded over it a lot.

 

“Washington D.C.”, he answers.

 

“Do you have a house?”

 

“A flat. But it’s big!”

 

“Do they allow pets?”

 

That catches him by surprise. “Pets?”, he replies and Nola stares him in the eyes as she lets a hand slip back into the hoodie pocket to procure a phone. She thumbs it open and trusts it into his face.

 

The picture on the screen is of Nola, her mother and a huge beast of a dog, ugly as sin, with a cropped tail and enough drool to drown a lesser man.

 

“Your dog?”, he hazards. She nods, shyly.

 

“I guess we can accommodate him”, he smiles at her and her entire face lights up. Silently, he apologizes to Vasquez, who has no love for pets, unless they can be made into food.

 

“Jack’s smart! He’s a guard dog, he always slept at the door of our flat, to scare of intruders!”

 

“Did that happen often?”

 

“Bad neighborhood”, she shrugs: “Are you married?”

 

“Not yet”, he replies truthfully, thinking of the box with the two rings he has stored under his boxers back at home.

 

That makes Nola shrink back again. “He likes kids”, Faraday adds, only to bite on his tongue.

 

“He?”, Nola repeats, cocking her head: “Didn’t peg you for being gay from Mom’s stories.”

 

“It’s a recent thing”, Faraday defends himself and doesn’t add that near death experiences have a way of putting life into perspective.

 

“Does he know of me?”

 

He ponders lying but figure Nola deserves truth more than anything: “Couldn’t reach him before I flew out. A friend offered to fill him in so I figure he should know by now.”

 

Nola looks less than convinced, mirroring his feelings exactly. He has left his phone at the cheap motel they had checked in so he can only assume it’s blowing up with messages by now.

 

“Do you have pictures?”, she fires off her next question and he shakes his head: “Phone’s at the motel. But I can show you later – I mean, if you want to actually come with me, that is.”

 

She gives him a wry smile: “Why not. It’s not like I got any other choice.”

 

|||

 

Faraday is belatedly grateful for Goodnight’s company, when he gets Nola’s trust within the first five minutes by making snarky remarks regarding Faraday and organizing someone to drive Jack to Washington.

 

Mrs. Martinez seems to be less sure of the proceedings but acquiesces when Nola insists on going with them, handing her a slip with her mobile number and the promise that she can call her anytime.

 

Makes Faraday feel like a failure, and he hasn’t even started this whole parenting thing yet.

 

They reach the motel and Faraday abandons Nola and Goonight on their search for food to fetch his phone. There are numerous missed calls and a slew of text messages from an unknown number that include enough Spanish swears to make it clear that they are from Vasquez.

 

Too tired to read through all of them, he just writes back: “Congrats, it’s a girl. And she has a dog.” and locks the screen again, pocketing it as an afterthought.

 

His companions sit in the dingy dining room and Nola seem to have inherited his appetite, as she digs into tortillas and beans like a starved coyote.

 

Faraday slides into the booth next to her, already thumbing through his phone until he can find a picture of Vasquez, grinning on their couch, controller in hand.

 

“That’s him”, he says and angles the screen so she can see.

 

“He’s hot”, Nola says approvingly during two bites and Goodnight wheezes hard when Faraday nearly chokes.

 

|||

 

That night, lying on his side of the motel room, Nola’s soft breaths breaking the silence, he reads through Vasquez’ texts.

 

There are no new ones after his quip about the dog so he gets out on the balcony and calls the number.

 

Vasquez picks up on the third ring. “ _Guero_ ”, he says and he sounds both fond and annoyed. “What did you do, _mi tonto_?”

 

“Can you pick us up?”, he asks, ignoring the question. He hates how small he sounds and how anxious it makes him to pose this question at all.

 

“ _Sí, guerito_ ”, says the voice on the other end and he chokes back on a sob.

 

“We get through this together. _No tengas miedo_.”


End file.
